Voyage Round My Father's Head #4

Father: Have you read my email?

Daughter: I haven't been on the computer today.

Father: I sent it this morning.

Daughter: I was out this morning.

Father: Read it.

Daughter: I'll read it la-

PHONE IS DISCONNECTED. DAUGHTER WALKS TO HER STUDY, TURNS ON PC. STARES AT SCREEN. SHE USES THE MOUSE TO SCROLL THROUGH HER EMAILS. ONE EMAIL IS ENTITLED "MUM'S JOURNEY TO THE AIRPORT". SHE CLICKS TO OPEN IT. THE MESSAGE READS: "IT WAS EVENTFUL. PHONE ME. LOVE DAD."

DAUGHTER WALKS BACK TO THE PHONE AND DIALS.

Daughter (RESIGNED): What happened?

Father: You know how uptight your mother gets -

Daughter: When she's late.

Father: I knew you'd take her side -

Daughter: You have to arrive three hours early for American flights.

Father: It was fine until my tyre blew.

Daughter: What time was this?

Father (VAGUELY): About 9 o'clock -

Daughter: Her flight was at ten!

Father: The car fell off the jack.

Daughter: What do you mean fell off?

Father: Your mother was crying.

Daughter: Crying?

Father: She hit her head on the roof.

Daughter: She was still in the car?

Father: After the fourth go I made her get out.

Daughter: She hit her head four times?

Father: She was being unreasonable. The roof's padded.

Daughter: Did you have the car in Park?

Father: The policeman asked that.

Daughter: What policeman?

Father: I put your mother's luggage on the hard shoulder and made her stick her thumb out.

Daughter: She hitched?

Father: No. (BEAT). I flagged down a minibus.

Daughter: A minibus?

Father: An hotel minibus. (BEAT). The policeman arrived ten minutes later.

Daughter: I don't believe this -

Father: He'd seen me on the cameras.

Daughter: CCTV.

Father: Those cameras are all along the M6. Marvellous.

Daughter: Were you fined?

Father: So I asked him if he played golf -

Daughter: Golf?

Father: He only took it up three years ago -

Daughter: Where's Mum now?

Father: Member of Denton -

Daughter: Did she make her flight?

Father: He arranged a free tow. Great bloke.

Daughter: What about Mum?

Father: I've invited him to play in a Pro-Am next month.

Daughter: WHERE'S MUM?

Father: I left it a few hours and came home. (BEAT). Just in case.

Daughter: Have you phoned Amy?

Father: Your sister won't want bothering with any of this.

Daughter: She could get some Valium.

Father: I'm fine.

Daughter: For Mum!

Father: Why would your mother need Valium?

Roll credits

Overheard Conversations #8

Location: Bus. Interior. Day.
Characters: One woman, of pensionable age. One man in his 20s.

Woman: That makes a change.
Man: What does?
Woman: A green bus with people on it.
Man: Where?
Woman: Just passed us.
Man: Oh.
Woman: They never have people on them.
Man: No?
Woman: Not normally. (BEAT). I can't see the point of green buses.
Man: No?
Woman: No-one's ever on them.
Man: Mmm.
Woman: Always empty.
Man: Mmm.
Woman: Mam wouldn't have anything green in the house.
Man: Cabbage?
Woman: It wasn't green for long.
Man: Eh?
Woman: She boiled everything for hours. Cabbage, socks, vests. Me dad's teeth.
PAUSE.
Woman (OUTRAGED): Did you see that mattress?
Man: Where?
Woman: Just passed it. Dumped in the alley by the lights.
Man: Oh.
Woman: Disgusting.
Man: Mmm.
Woman: Some people!
PAUSE.
Woman: Town was busy.
Man: Hmm.
Woman: Friday's always busy.
Man: Mmm.
Woman: I don't know where people get the money.
Man: Hmm.
Woman: Spending for the sake of spending.
Man: Mmm.
Woman: That top in TJs? £9.99. I could make it for that!
Man: Someone did, Nan.
PAUSE.
Woman: Did you see last night's Echo?
Man: No.
Woman: Front page. Lad from Brookside's opening a swingers' club.
Man: What?
Woman: Shame I'm so old.
Man: Nan!
Woman: I loved to swing.
Man: Swing?
Woman: Legs everywhere.
Man: Are you -?
Woman: I'd be shattered the next day.
Man: Shattered?
Woman: There were a couple of regulars. Me and Sylvia fought over them.
Man: Nan -
Woman: There was George. He knew how to hold a lady. Firm but gentle. Always in control.
Man: I don't think -
Woman: Larry was - well, he was nice enough, but a bit heavy-handed. I'd be black and blue after a few goes with him.
Man: Goes?
Woman: We never stopped from the moment we took our coats off. I'd come home dripping.
Man: I really don't think -
Woman: I met your grandad there.
Man: Grandad?
Woman: A right charmer. He had me bent over backwards! (BEAT). I blamed him for my hip.
Man: I don't think -
Woman: Of course he said my hip had nothing to do with it. But then he would.
PAUSE.
Man: Can we talk about green buses again?

Roll credits.

Mother's Tongue #2

Mother: Are you out of bed yet?

Daughter: It's half-past three.

Mother: Mary's home.

Daughter: I didn't know she'd been away.

Mother: Poland. Three weeks.

Daughter: Did she have a good break?

Mother: I had a good break. (BEAT). She's driving me mad.

Daughter: Hmm?

Mother: I took her to Morrison's on Friday.

Daughter: That was nice.

Mother: She was telling me about something she'd eaten.

Daughter: Yes?

Mother: Oliver oils.

Daughter: Oliver oils?

Mother: Oliver oils. I said, "Describe them to me, Mary" and she said, "You can eat them hot or cold."
Daughter: Oliver oils?

Mother: Sweet or savoury.

Daughter: Oliver oils?

Mother: And that a lady would take two bites but a man would stuff it in all at once.

Daughter: Oliver oils?

Mother: Vol-au-vents.

Daughter: Ohhh...

Mother: Yes, I got there in the end. She leaned over, patted me on the knee and said "Good girl, patience is a virgin."

Daughter: How's Dad?

Mother: Don't ask!

Daughter: Okay.

Mother: He's put a sign up on the spare bedroom.

Daughter: Sign?

Mother: Presidential Suite.

Daughter: What?

Mother: He thinks we should start a B&B.

Daughter: Why?

Mother: He's met a man in sausages.

Daughter: In sausages?

Mother: Gets them cheap. Your father says people will go for a Presidential Suite and unlimited sausage sandwiches.

Daughter: I hope you've said no.

Mother: The sign's fallen off twice.

Daughter: How's the book?

A VOICE IS HEARD: Duchess! Duchess!

Daughter: Who's that?

Mother (WHISPERING): Mary. She said she'd bring some parkin for your father. But I've hidden the infra-red.

Daughter: Infra-red what?

Mother: That massage thing. He puts on his bathrobe and gets Mary to do his neck.

Daughter: Sausage sandwiches and a full body massage by a seventy-six year old Pole? You'll be booked up.

VOICE COMING CLOSER: Duchess! Duchess?

Mother: Ring me later, I'm going to hide.

Joyful List #5

New friends; old friends; even older friends; letters in stiff, sharp envelopes; handwriting, strings of pearls cool against skin; cake stands; freckles; frocks; inscribed books; old postcards and their mysterious half-stories; jewel-bright jam bubbling in a pan; the warm weight of dough; slow roasted tomatoes; mezzalunas; fizzbangs; The Slosh.

Overheard Conversation #6

Location: Supermarket pet food aisle. Interior. Afternoon.

Characters: Mum, Dad, two children - one girl, one boy.

Mum: Do we need dog food?

Dad: We haven't got a dog.

Mum: So we don't need dog food, then?

Dad: No.

Girl: Can we get a dog?

Dad: No.

Boy: What about a puppy?

Dad: No.

Girl: Let's have a vote. Who here wants a dog?

MUM, GIRL & BOY RAISE THEIR HANDS

Girl: That's one, two, three votes against one. We win.

Dad: We're not getting a dog.

Girl (MUTTERING): It's like living in Stalinist Russia.

Dad (QUICKLY): What we do need is plant food. Who fancies a trip to B&Q?

Mum, Girl, Boy: NO!

Dad: For the roses.

Mum: We haven't got any roses.

Dad: Yes, we have. That white one in the back. Ice - ice -?

Boy: Cube?

Mum: Iceberg.

Dad: That's the one.

Mum: You dug it up.

Dad: What?

Mum: You said it looked dead, so you dug it up.

Daughter (SMUGLY): All roses look dead in winter.

Mum: You dug up the clematis too.

Boy: And that other plant.

Dad: What other plant?

Boy: The one you said looked dead.

Girl: All plants look dead in winter.

Boy: Except Christmas trees.

Girl: Let's get a dog for Christmas!

Dad: We can't get a dog. It'll go to sleep, I'll think it's dead and I'll bury it.

Daughter: Just get one, Mum. He'll be cross for a week or so and then calm down.

Dad: We are not getting a dog.

Daughter: This is very undemocratic.

Boy: All my friends have got dogs.

Dad: So, B&Q..?

Boy: Alex, Joe, Michael, Connor, Benny -

Mum (EXAMINING TIN OF DOG FOOD): This looks quite tasty -

Boy: Lianne, James, Jason, Jeremy -

Girl: Jeremy?

Boy: Shut up! Peter, Paul, Christopher -

Mum (PUTTING TIN IN THE TROLLEY): If we can't have a dog, let's have another baby.

Dad (QUICKLY): We'll get a dog.

Overheard Conversations #5

Location: Cafe bar. Late afternoon. Interior.

Characters: Two women in their 30s sit at a table chatting.

Brunette: I wasn't going to tell you this...

Blonde: I can guess.

Brunette: I called round to see -

Blonde (TRIUMPHANT): Rick.

Brunette: Yes.

Blonde: Rick the Prick

Brunette: Ha-ha.

Blonde: Why?

Brunette: I wanted a damn good seeing to.

Blonde: And?

Brunette: He had a headache.

Blonde: Rick never has headaches.

Brunette: I know. (BEAT). That's why I'm depressed.

Blonde: Buy a rabbit. (BEAT). Not the furry kind.

Brunette: Got one. (BEAT). Sometimes y'fancy the real thing, y'know?

Blonde (SIGHS): Yup. (BEAT). Women like sex more than men.

Brunette: Y'think?

Blonde: For all those jokes about electric blankets and flannel nighties.

Brunette: You could be right. (BEAT). I've never had a headache.

Blonde: Not even with -?

Brunette: No. (LAUGHS). He just made me physically sick.

Blonde: Ewww!

Brunette: Not at the time. But now - the thought!

Blonde: Don't. (SHUDDERS).

Brunette: Cheer me up. Tell me about Spanker.

Blonde: No! I'm not doing all my yesterdays.

Brunette: About Honey Boy.

Blonde: No!

Brunette (PERSUASIVELY): About Darren...

Blonde (ROLLS HER EYES): Okay. Because Rick's been a dick.

Brunette: You're a mate.

Blonde: He was going back to Portsmouth.

Brunette: And?

Blonde: I got on the train at Lime Street to kiss him goodbye -

Brunette: And?

Blonde: The carriage was empty.

Brunette: And?

Blonde: We had a cuddle.

Brunette: And?

Blonde: I gave him a blow job -

Blonde: Did you go all the way?

Brunette: No, only to Runcorn -

Blonde & Brunette (TOGETHER): Then I got the train back!

THEY BOTH LAUGH.

Brunette: Sod coffee. I need a drink.

Blonde: Gin?

Brunette: Only if it's a stiff one.

ROLL CREDITS

Overheard Conversations #7

Location: Living room. Interior. Day

Characters: Annie - elderly lady. Various other relatives whose names will become apparent. (Just read the script). All are dressed in sober colours.

Through the window a hearse can be seen pulling into the driveway. A black-suited man arranges a floral tribute on the crazy paving: Grandad spelled in white chrysanthemums.

David (LOOKING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND MUTTERING): Anyone would think we were The Krays.
Val: Shush! You'll upset your nana.
Annie (SEATED IN HIGH BACK ARMCHAIR BY THE GAS FIRE): Well, this is nice. (SHE SMILES). All the family. (SHE LOOKS ROUND). Where's Mick?
David: Dad's having a fag outside.
Annie: Has he eaten all the sausage rolls?
Val: No, Mum. There's another tray in the oven.
Annie: Don't burn them. We all know what you're like. (ADDRESSING THE ROOM). She could burn hot water.
Sandra (HESITANTLY): Would you like more tea, Auntie Annie.
Annie: No, or I'll be wanting to tinkle when the vicar's doing his bit. (BEAT). I need my shoes fetching.
NO-ONE MOVES.
Annie: David, fetch my shoes.
David: Where are they, Nana?
Annie: Under my bed. You can use the Stannah. It'll take any weight. (BEAT). Even yours.
DAVID LEAVES ROOM
Annie (LOUDLY): It wasn't fashionable to be fat when I was his age.
Val: He's not fat. It's muscle, Mum.
Annie: Where's that tea you promised me, Sandra?
SANDRA POURS A CUP AND BRINGS IT TO ANNIE.
Annie (GRABBING AND PATTING HER HAND): Are you tired, Sandra?
Sandra: No, Auntie Annie.
Annie: You look tired.
Sandra: I'm not tired. (QUICKLY). I'm sorry about Uncle Harold. Was it sudden?
ANNIE STARES AT HER.
Annie: I've never been one to tell someone they look good when I don't think they do. (BEAT). Drawn. You look drawn.
Sandra: I'm fine.
Annie: Mind you, it's been ten years since I've seen you. You might always look like that.
Val: Mum!
Annie: I was just saying -
Jonathan (ENTERING FROM HALLWAY): Mr. Price wants us to leave in five minutes.
Annie: But I haven't drunk my tea.
Jonathan: We don't want to be late.
Annie: Your father was always late. He'd be late for his own funeral.
SILENCE.
David (ENTERING ROOM): These shoes, Nana?
Annie: No, my navy blue shoes.
David: These are navy.
Annie: My other navy blue shoes.
(DAVID LEAVES THE ROOM).
Val: Right, I've locked the back door.
Annie: What about the sausage rolls?
Val: I've turned the oven off.
Annie: They'll go cold
Jonathan: We need to leave.
Annie: I can't afford to waste good food. Especially on a single pension.
DAVID ENTERS ROOM, HOLDING A PAIR OF SHOES.
Annie: No! I've got bunions. I'm not sitting there with sore feet.
DAVID LEAVES ROOM AGAIN.
Jonathan (LOUDLY): If everyone could please make their way outside -
Annie: Wrap them in foil and we'll eat them on the way.
Val: I don't want a sausage roll.
Annie: Sandra will eat one, won't you, Sandra?
Sandra: I -
Annie: And the men outside.
Val: Flaky pastry in a hearse?
Annie: Your father loved a sausage roll. Not keen on them cold, though.
Jonathan (SHOUTING): David! Hurry up, please!
Annie: I'll wear my slippers. No sense in suffering.
Val: I'll fetch your shoes.
Jonathan (TO VAL): She can wear her bloody slippers for all I care. Just get her out the house.
Annie: It's a shame Liza's not here.
Jonathan: I told you, she's meeting us at the crem.
Annie: Valerie! Wrap up a sausage roll for Liza. Better make it two. (BEAT). She likes her food.
A CAR BEEPS OUTSIDE.
Annie: Where are my shoes?
Val: I've got them here.
Annie (STRUGGLING TO STAND UP): I need a tinkle.
Jonathan: We've got to go!
Annie: So have I -
Jonathan: We're going to be late.
Annie: I hope that great lump hasn't broken my Stannah.
Jonathan: I'll be waiting in the car. Sandra, you sit in the front. Val?
Val: I'm coming! David?
THEY LEAVE THE ROOM.
Annie (FLOPS BACK INTO THE CHAIR AND CLOSES HER EYES): Oh, Harold...

Roll credits.

Voyage Round My Father's Head #3

Father: I'm phoning to see if you'd like to join us for lunch?
Daughter: Are you in the car?

Father: About 1 o'clock.

Daughter: You shouldn't use your phone when you're driving.

Father: I thought we'd eat in Wilmslow.

Daughter: I'm in bed.

Father: Still?

Daughter: I had an operation then had 'flu, remember?

Father: That was last week.

Daughter: And I'm not allowed to drive for two weeks.

Father: You take after your mother. I'm never ill. (BEAT) So you're not coming for lunch?

Daughter: Not this time.

Father: I've been to Fleetwood today.

Daughter: Why?

Father: I'll just pass you onto someone.

Daughter: I'm -

Father: You haven't spoken to her for thirty years!
Daughter: Maybe another time. (BEAT). Dad?

SOUND OF PHONE BEING DROPPED THEN PICKED UP AGAIN.

Daughter: Hello?

Woman (VERY WELL-SPOKEN): Hello? Hello, is that Claire?

Daughter (SLOWLY): Yes...?

Woman: It's Vee, darling!

Daughter: Vee?

Woman: Vee Bentham.

Daughter: Vee...

Woman: Your father's very kindly taking me to the airport. I'm flying back to London.

Daughter: Auntie Vivi!

Woman : No-one's called me that for years, sweetie. Now then, when did I last see you?

Daughter: Er, 1979...?

Woman: Of course! Then you moved back north.

Daughter: Yes. Gosh, Vee...

Woman (BRISKLY): You know I can't picture you at all.

Daughter: Oh?

Woman: Turn left here, darling. Your father says you were the bossy one.

Daughter: I was the eldest.

Woman: There were two of you?

Daughter: Three. Two boys and a girl.

Woman: And which were you?

Daughter: Er...

Woman: Apparently you were very plump.

Father (SHOUTING): She ate so many biscuits I told her she'd pop!

Daughter: I was tall. I had long, brown hair.

Woman: No, it's not coming to me. It's just down here, sweetie.

Daughter (EAGER): I have a very strong memory of you though.

Woman: Have you, darling?

Daughter (ENTHUSIASTICALLY): Yes, it was when you were taking Lucy back to boarding school.

Woman: Yes?

Daughter: You took me in the car for company on the way back. You had Radio 3 on -

Woman: It's gone off a bit, Radio 3.

Daughter: I was in the front seat. We ate barley sugars and talked about all sorts of things. I felt so grown up. It was very dark, all these windy roads with high hedges -

Woman: Oh, yes! The school was in Devon. Dreadful place.

Daughter: Suddenly there was a badger caught in the car's headlights. It's the only time I've ever seen a badger. I wrote a poem about it.

Woman: A badger!

Daughter: It's a very vivid memory.

Woman: How funny! (BEAT). I have no recollection of that at all.

Daughter (SHOCKED): Oh.

Woman (BREEZILY): Amazing! There we are, moving through life making tremendous impressions on other people. People we don't even remember! How funny!

Daughter: Yes.

Woman: I'll pass you back to your father. It was lovely speaking to you, Catherine.

SOUND OF PHONE BEING PASSED BACK

Father: A blast from the past, hey?

Daughter: Yes.

Father: Shame you can't join us for lunch.

Daughter: Yes -

Father: More material for the book!

Daughter: Dad? (BEAT). Dad?

SOUND OF POLICE SIREN AND PHONE BEING DROPPED.

Overheard Conversations #4

Location: Garden Centre in West Yorkshire. Cafe. Interior. Day.

Characters

Annie - female, 83, white permed hair, glasses, smartly dressed in red M&S coat with shiny buttons, cream silk scarf, slacks and well polished shoes with a low heel.

Liza - Annie's Daughter-in-Law, 42, slightly overweight, untidy hair, scrubbed face, jeans, fleece top, boots (need polishing)

Annie sits at a table. Liza walks towards her carrying a tray loaded with plates: fish and chips, a panini, an enormous slice of chocolate gateau, and a pot of tea for two. Liza takes everything off the tray, arranges it nicely on their table and sits down.

Annie is slightly deaf and consequently talks loudly.

Annie (LOOKING AT HER PLATE): That's not a haddock. That's a blinking whale.

Liza: It's certainly a big piece of fish. Just eat what you can.

Annie: It would feed a family of eight. And a cat. And next door's cat. (PRODS AT IT WITH HER FORK). It won't even fit on the plate.

Liza: Leave what you can't manage.

ANNIE LEANS FOWARD AND PEERS CLOSELY AT THE FISH.

Liza (OFFERING HER OWN PLATE): Would you rather have my panini?

Annie: A sandwich? A sandwich on my birthday?

Liza: Or shall I get you something else?

Annie: What else was there?

Liza (DOUBTFULLY): We did go through the menu several times... You didn't fancy the hotpot.

Annie: Fatty.

Liza: Or the curry...

Annie: Curry!

Liza: Or the jacket potato...

Annie: It is my birthday.

Liza: I suppose I could ask them to make you a salad...?

Annie: There's no substance in salad. It's why rabbits stay small.

Liza (GRABS A MENU AND SCANS IT HURRIEDLY): The carvery opens at 12.30

Annie: Well, if I'd known that.

Liza: I did mention it...

Annie: Money doesn't grow on trees. No wonder our Jonathan looks so stressed. (SHE LOOKS AROUND, CATCHES THE EYE OF A COUPLE SEATED AT ANOTHER TABLE AND NODS AT LIZA). I'm sat with Imelda Marcos here.

Liza: Pardon?

Annie: Wants to buy me two dinners! (CUTS INTO THE FISH). This batter is lovely and crispy.

Liza (WEAKLY): I -

Annie: I always have fish and chips when I come here.

Liza: Oh.

Annie (POINTING HER KNIFE AT LIZA'S PLATE): That toastie looks dry. Wouldn't fancy it myself.

Liza (PICKING IT UP): I wasn't very hungry. Wanted something light.

Annie (WITH HER MOUTH FULL OF FOOD): I know it's Modern, but I've always thought it very unladylike to eat with your fingers.

LIZA PUTS DOWN PANINI QUICKLY AND PICKS UP HER KNIFE AND FORK.

Annie: And that tea'll be stewed.

LIZA PUTS DOWN HER CUTLERY, PICKS UP THE TEAPOT AND STARTS TO POUR

Annie: Milk first!

LIZA PUTS DOWN THE TEAPOT AND POURS MILK INTO TWO CUPS. THEN POURS THE TEA.

Annie (WORKING HER WAY THROUGH HER MEAL): I like the food here. It's a shame I don't get brought more often.

Liza (BRIGHTLY): The mirror in your hall. Is it new?

Annie: Four years old. But then you don't visit often, do you?

Liza (QUICKLY): I was here last month, Annie.

Annie: Not that you stay long when you do visit.

Liza: I have to get back for the children.

Annie: It'd be nice to see my grandchildren occasionally.

Liza: They're busy at weekends. Mandy's got a Saturday job, Connor's in a football team. Practice. Matches.

Annie: That should get some fat off him.

Liza: He's not fat.

Annie: I wouldn't know. I don't remember the last time I saw him.

Liza (UNDER HER BREATH): The last time you saw him you made him cry by calling him fat.

Annie: What's that?

Liza: I was wondering if you needed the salt?

Annie: Salt? No. High blood pressure. And cholesterol. And sugar. Getting old's no fun at all.

Liza: I can see that.

Annie (STABS A CHIP WITH HER FORK AND THRUSTS IT AT LIZA): Take this.

Liza: I'm fine. Thanks.

Annie: No take it. I can't eat all of them.

Liza: I really don't want any chips. Thank you.

Annie (PICKS UP HER PLATE AND SHOVES HALF OF HER CHIPS ONTO LIZA'S PANINI): There!

Liza (TRYING TO FIND HER PANINI UNDER THE MOUNTAIN OF CHIPS): I did say -

Annie: Oh, just eat 'em. It's not like you bother about your weight.

Liza: I -

Annie: Jonathan's first wife - Monica - she was all skin and bone. (BEAT). I was quite surprised when he brought you home.

Liza (PUSHES AWAY HER PLATE AND PULLS HER CUP OF TEA TOWARDS HER. SHE TAKES A DEEP BREATH): So. Have you heard from Molly?

Annie: Molly? No. She'll be in the Isle of Mann. Spends the summer there.

Liza: Any other of the old neighbours?

ANNIE CHEWS AND THINKS. (BEAT)

Annie: Well I got a postcard from Cliff and Marjorie.

Liza: Cliff and Marjorie?

Annie: Marjorie mainly. Cliff's been dead twenty year.

Liza: Oh!

Annie: They lived opposite us in Bury.

Liza: When was that?

Annie: Before we moved to Kippax. (BEAT) We kept in touch. (BEAT). In those days, people were prepared to make an effort.

Liza (CALMLY): That's nice.

Annie: Kept in touch until Cliff had his... Had his.. (SHE PAUSES AND FROWNS). Well, I suppose you'd call it a mid-life crisis.

Liza: Mid-life crisis?

Annie (DOUBTFULLY): I suppose you'd call it that. (BEAT). Pass my gateau over.

Liza (PASSING OVER THE CAKE): Did he run off with someone?

Annie (OUTRAGED): Cliff? Cliff wouldn't do anything like that! (SHE LOOKS AT THE CAKE). Is there any cream?

Liza (CAREFULLY): Your cholesterol...?

Annie (CROSSLY): It is my birthday.

LIZA GETS UP, GOES TO THE COUNTER AND RETURNS WITH A JUG OF CREAM. ANNIE EMPTIES IT OVER HER CAKE.

Annie: It was a bit dry before.

Liza: It's nice to see your appetite's back.

Annie: I doubt I'll eat much tomorrow. Probably just a cracker. (BEAT). If that. When you're on your own, you don't feel like eating.

Liza (HURRIEDLY): So what happened to Cliff?

Annie: He started wearing women's clothing.

Liza: What?

Annie: He said it was a joke, but it's not a joke when you fit your garage out with wardrobes and shoeracks, is it?

Liza: Goodness.

Annie: He had drawers full of long blonde wigs. (BEAT). He packed them when we went to Malta!

Liza: Malta?

Annie: Harold was horrified. There we were in the bar, and in floats Cliff in a sequinned frock, gold shoes and a wig.

Liza: When was this?

Annie: 1976.

Liza: Had he shown any signs before?

Annie (THOUGHTFUL): A few years earlier, he'd asked what denier my stockings were but I thought he was just trying it on.

Liza: You know, I really wasn't expecting this.

Annie: And then we had to stop inviting them to visit.

Liza: Oh?

Annie: After the incident at the Miners' Club.

Liza: Yes?

Annie: They'd come over to stay with us for the weekend. Saturday night we were going to the club. There was an act on.

Liza: Sounds fun.

Annie: And bingo. Anyway, Cliff comes through to the kitchen in his frock. Harold lost his temper. I mean, Harold was a man who didn't like to part his hair differently. He said "I'm not taking you to the bloody club dressed like that!"

Liza: The Miners' Club?

Annie: Hard men, miners.

Liza: Yes.

Annie: There was a scene and they went home. After that we stuck to birthday and Christmas cards.

Liza: I can see why!

Annie: We were in Benidorm when he died. Missed the funeral. I bet the flowers were lovely.

Liza: Mmm.

Annie: But Maureen did well. She had his frocks taken in and booked a cruise round The Med. Anyway, where are you taking me for tea?

ROLL CREDITS

Mother's Tongue

See posts passim to contextualise the following:

Mother: I could strangle your bloody father!

Daughter (HOLDING 'PHONE AWAY FROM EAR): I'm sure he's not really a tramp.

Mother: What?

Daughter: I doubt whether Sid Dene is really a tramp.

Mother: Who's Sid Dene?

Daughter (QUICKLY): Ignore me. I've just woken up.

Mother: Are you in bed?

Daughter: I've got Swine 'flu, remember?

Mother: You should get up. You'll feel much better. Anyway, I am so cross with your father I could spit!

Daughter (RESIGNED): Why? What's he done now?

Mother: Mark's been round.

Daughter: Mark?

Mother: His biographer.

Daughter: Mmm?

Mother: You know that Trade Fayre your father was at in Birmingham?

Daughter: No.

Mother: Yes, you do. When he was selling Space Invaders.

Daughter: Still no.

Mother: You do. We'd just moved back to Leeds.

Daughter: In 1979?

Mother: Yes.

Daughter: I was thirteen.

Mother: That's beside the point. (TRIUMPHANT). He wasn't there!

Daughter: Who wasn't where?

Mother: Mark's been going over the first draft.

Daughter: Where's Dad?

Mother: In the bath.

Daughter: Is Mark in the bath with him?

Mother: Don't be stupid. Mark's sitting on the pouffe in our bedroom. I was on the landing, dusting, and I happened to hear Mark read out 1979.

Daughter: He's reading loudly then.

Mother: He has to. Your father keeps topping up the hot water and the immersion's noisy.

Daughter (WEAKLY): I'm really not feeling very well, Mum.

Mother: Your father wasn't at the Trade Fayre. He was in Spain. Playing golf with Jimmy Tarbuck! And you weren't well.

Daughter: I'm not well now.

Mother: Your father's life has been a closed book.

Daughter: Not for much longer.

Mother: What does that mean?

Daughter (SIGHS): I'm going to have to go, Mum.

Mother: I'm not going to tell him I know. I'm playing my cards close to my face.

Daughter: Chest.

Mother: That too. (QUICKLY). Have to go. He's pulled the plug out.

Voyage Round My Father's Head #2

See previous post for explanation.

Father: Sid Dene's phoned me.

Daughter: Hello, Dad. How are you?

Father: Sid Dene. Do you remember him?

Daughter: I'm feeling much better, thanks for asking.

Father: Sid used to visit us in Argyll Close.

Daughter: Nope, doesn't ring any bells.

Father: We lived there until you were eight.

Daughter: I remember Argyll Close. I don't remember Sid Dene.

Father: He was my boss at Ashton Baths. Great family man.

Daughter: Are you out of the bath yet?

Father: Big man. Lots of black hair.

Daughter: So, Sid Dene's phoned you. How did he get your number?

Father: You know Bryan Hill?

Daughter (DISAPPROVING): Mmm.

Father: Great womaniser.

Daughter: Always talked to my chest.

Father: What?

Daughter: Nothing.

Father (IRRITATED): I wish you'd speak properly. Your mother mumbles all the time, too.

Daughter: Is this going anywhere, Dad?

Father: I was at Bryan Hill's car showroom once and he had this secretary, Gerry.

Daughter: Yes?

Father: Great looking woman.

Daughter: Can I stop you a moment. You haven't phoned the Bookie's for at least a minute.

Father: Your mother's hidden my mobile.

Daughter: Ahh...

Father: So I asked Bryan if he was going out with Gerry.

Daughter: Was Bryan sleeping in his garage at this point?

Father: What?

Daughter: When his wife wouldn't let the dog into the house? He slept in the garage with the dog for three years?

Father: That was years later. Anyway, Bryan said "I'm not going out with Gerry."

Daughter: And?

Father: He said it three times. "I'm not going out with Gerry."

Daughter: I'm not following this, Dad.

Father: Sid was!

Daughter: Sid was what?

Father: Going out with Gerry. He left his wife and family and moved to Cornwall with her.

Daughter: When was this?

Father: 1975. It's all going in my book.

Daughter: A riveting read.

Father: Bryan Hill saw Sid last year. Very sad.

Daughter: I can see why Sid would find that depressing.

Father: He's very thin and has lost his hair and teeth.

Daughter: That was careless.

Father: Gerry died. (BEAT). She was a great looking woman.

Daughter: Oh dear.

Father: Bryan Hill said Sid smelled. Needed a wash. Looked like a tramp. (BEAT). Sid's emailing me every day now.

Daughter: Oh?

Father: I've invited him to stay.

Daughter: Have you told Mum?

Father (SOUND OF WATER GUSHING FROM A TAP): Got to go, love. I'm meeting my accountant in The Slater's.

Voyage Round My Father's Head

Note to Reader: These conversations take place in 2-3 minute bursts - the estimated time that a horse race takes from They're Off! to the winner being officially declared. Some of the conversations take place during the 60 seconds or so between horse races. This may go some way to explaining the disjointed nature of the communication.

All conversations take place on the telephone, so imagine you are on a third party line, listening in.

Father: Has your mother called you?

Daughter: Not recently. Why?

Father: So she hasn't told you what I've done?

Daughter: What have you done?

Father: Fifty to win

Daughter: What?

Father: Shush, I'm on my mobile.

Father: Okay, thanks. It's like this; your brother's pal, the journalist?

Daughter: Mark?

Father: That's the one. Well he says the writing's on the wall for newspapers

Daughter: On newsprint, surely?

Father: What?

Daughter: Nothing.

Father: And he thinks journalists need to diversify.

Daughter: Okay...

Father: And do things like ghost write autobiographies.

Daughter: Mmmm?

Father: So I'm paying him £30 an hour to write mine.

Daughter: WHAT?

Father: He's charging me half-price as a loss leader

Daughter: Loss-maker.

Father: What?

Daughter: Nothing.

Father (TETCHY): I wish you'd stop interrupting. Useless nag!

Daughter: I'm hanging up now.

Father: Not you. The bloody horse. So we've got up to 1963 -

Daughter: And Duckenfield Victoria and your football injury.

Father: What?

Daughter: The injury that caused you to have your hip replaced forty-two years later.

Father: You're in a mood. You're upset because I haven't asked you to write my book.

Daughter: Not the ten rounds of golf you play each week.

Father: Mark needs the money.

Daughter: You've just made me redundant.

Father: It's better man-to-man.

Daughter: You mean you'd rather not tell me what you've been up to.

Father: I'd get more sense talking to your mother!

Daughter: Why don't you?

Father: She's not talking to me at the moment.

Daughter (UNDER HER BREATH): Can't think why.

Father: The Favourite. One hundred.

(SOUND OF WATER SPLASHING)

Daughter: Where are you?

Father: My office.

Daughter: In the bath, then?

Father: I'll ring you back. Your mother's shouting something.